Wednesday, January 21, 2004

OHM – MY GOODNESS

In some ways I don’t think I was thinking right in the last moments leading up to the first practices this week. I had experienced many "How to" clinics in Philly, and I had been listening to players talk to me too much and for too long with no on field action thrown in to keep me centered. That’s where I can see and hear best….on the field. My mind was swimming with all these schemes and dreams of building the better team. I still forget once in a while that "plans" often have all these contingencies over which I have little or no control.

I got caught up in the dizzying excitement of all that sometimes surrounds me, and I briefly forgot to do what I do best, which is listen to whatever that thing is that talks to me from the inside at certain moments. That voice can get trampled at times by the stampede of life.

Q - HOW DO YOU GET TO BROADWAY FROM HERE?
A – Practice, practice, practice ( a very old joke)

We have had three practices already. Hallelujah. I should be joyful. Last year it might have been April by now. However, I went home last night stunned, even depressed (it doesn’t take much or long, as we know) about practice. It was only Tuesday, and only day two of 04.

It had been miserable outside, sleeting, snowing, and also teasing that it might clear, a typical Colorado day. The worst of the weather hovered only over the campus, big as Elvis, and specifically mostly over our practice field. It’s hard enough with distractions to have a meaningful first practice, but this still seemed ridiculously difficult at the moment. At times like these I often still question the wisdom in having left Santa Barbara eight years ago.

I had these visions of an "A" practice for our first one outside. I would be using a bunch of stuff, some of it new, conjured together by me during the weeks before. In fact I was so "married" to the idea of having this unbelievable first practice that when it sucked I became nearly inconsolable. It seems a little early for despair, but that’s always a good motivator for me. As darkness fell quick and hard yesterday, I knew that what I really had for Tuesday was a practice that wasn’t very good, and one I could no longer retrieve either. So much for that whole "one chance to make a first impression" concept as the "thing" thing. If that is the key to our season then I have already "screwed the pooch" (Gus Grissom, Astronaut) after two measly practices.

In the long run, though, they (players) ran a lot, and really that is all I wanted for the first day. So, once again, it was all-good. It took me a while to come to that final realization, however.

KEEP IT SIMPLE STUPID

I went home after practice feeling that I had been fortunate enough to have been given this wonderful toy (a team), but that I had somehow managed to break it the first day and this was yet another indicator of my overall ineptness. I brooded all night.

THE OTHER SIDE OF MIDNIGHT

What a difference a day can make. When I woke up I knew just how I needed to approach practice for this day, and it became easy again to plan. It had been so tedious to plan the one before (yesterday’s session).

Today I brought back the "old" me for practice. I realize it sounds more dramatic than it really was, but we did very simple things and lots of them today. I feel better now.

I was part passive and part active today. I think I upset one of the freshmen with some very negative reinforcement on something he did that kind of set me off on about 12 different levels. In other words, you could look at what had happened in a lot of ways, but none of the ways had any redeeming qualities (in my humble opinion). When that kind of glaring thing happens I see it as a great teaching, or should I say learning, opportunity. I tend to humiliate, hopefully in a sort of humorous way. The individual often doesn’t think it is funny at all. That makes us even. Stop doing it.

We ran today quite a bit, but they don’t think they did. Tomorrow (actually Friday) someone will tell me that we need to run more. That person will be a player. I’ll try to remember, but I might be too distracted, whistling my own tune.

Next Entry | Previous Entry


Flip Started Blogging Before it was Cool, Read Over 400 of His Entries Since January 2001
Jump to a Period:
2006: Jan Feb Mar Apr May June July Aug Sept Oct Nov
2005: Jan Feb Mar Apr May June July Aug Sept Oct Nov Dec
2004: Jan Feb Mar Apr May June July Aug Sept Oct Nov Dec
2003: Jan Feb Mar Apr May June July Aug Sept Oct Nov Dec
2002: Jan Feb Mar Apr May June July Aug Sept Oct Nov Dec
2001: Jan Feb Mar Apr May Sept Oct Nov Dec